


The One With the Blackout

by DizzilySpiraling



Series: This is How We Met [1]
Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Alternate Universe, First Meetings, M/M, Meet-Cute, NHL Player Jack Zimmermann, Trapped
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-08
Updated: 2016-06-08
Packaged: 2018-07-13 01:20:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,693
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7132343
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DizzilySpiraling/pseuds/DizzilySpiraling
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There's a power outage in Providence, and Bitty is trapped in an ATM vestibule with Jack freakin' Zimmermann. Who, as it turns out, is not there to mug him. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>  <i>Bitty walks to the farthest corner of the small room and tries to mumble as clearly and slowly as he can. “I’m trpped... in an ATM vstbl... wth Jck Zimmrmnn!”</i></p>
<p> </p>
<p>  <i>“Bits. I have literally no idea what you just said.”</i></p>
<p> </p>
<p>  <i>He huffs loudly and brings a palm to his forehead. “Just put Shitty on the phone.” </i></p>
            </blockquote>





	The One With the Blackout

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by the Friends episode with the same name. Jack never went to college and is playing for the Falconers, Bitty plays for Samwell.

Bitty’s at the damn bank when the blackout starts because Lardo read a blog post about a newly opened hipster coffee place that used to be a storage container. And they only take cash. Bitty rarely has cash on him; he uses his student card at the Samwell cafeteria, and even the murder Stop n’ Shop takes debit.

The ATM makes a whirring noise and returns his card, then the entire room goes dark for a moment before the emergency lights come on. Bitty hurriedly stuffs the cash in his pocket and tries to leave, only to find the backup power source for the automatic doors has malfunctioned. He huffs in annoyance, shoving to see if they have any give. They don’t, and now his palm is covered in a mysterious slime he doesn’t want to think too much about. 

He hears someone softly clearing their throat behind him, and just now realizes that someone else is in the little booth with him. The stranger is dressed in shorts, running shoes, a hoodie, and a Falconers cap pulled low over his face. He’s also got his hands shoved in the pockets of the hoodie, looking for all the world like he was going to hold up the bank before he got trapped in the ATM vestibule. 

Bitty sucks in a breath and flattens himself against the door, holding his hands up in what he hopes is a non-threatening gesture. “You don’t need to use the gun! I’ve got forty bucks cash and a Pinkberry rewards card.” 

The stranger lifts his head and frowns at Bitty, although he does take his hands out of his pocket. There’s something vaguely familiar about his face, but Bitty’s still too frightened to place the stranger. 

“Can I try the door?” The stranger says, with a slight accent that Bitty can’t immediately recognize. Bitty nods silently and shuffles away, pulling out his phone to text Lardo to let her know that he won’t make it to the coffeeshop in time. 

[Stuck at bank. Doors won’t open. Trapped with sketchy mugger in expensive sneakers.]

He looks up when he hears a clanking sound that turns out to be the robber using his shoulder to ram against the doors. They rattle in the frame but refuse to budge. In the struggle, the Falconers cap gets dislodged, and Bitty immediately recognizes the unmistakable blue eyes, even if the playoff beard is horrendous in person. Definitely not a bank robber. 

“Holy shit,” Bitty mutters under his breath as his phone begins to vibrate in his hand. Lardo’s calling, probably to make sure he's okay. 

“Hey, Lardo,” he answers. “I don’t know when the doors will open, you should go get coffee without me.”

“Nevermind the coffee. You’re trapped with a mugger? Do I need to call the police?” She sounds relieved to hear his voice, though Bitty can hear the concern under the tense laugh.

“No. No. Ignore that, um.” Bitty sneaks a glance at Jack Zimmermann, who’s now squatted down to examine the emergency power bank, and mumbles quietly into the phone, “I’m trpped in an ATM vstbl wth Jck Zimmrmnn!”

There’s a long pause on the phone. “What?” Lardo must think he’s gone crazy. “Did the mugger drug you?”

Bitty walks to the farthest corner of the small room and tries to mumble as clearly and slowly as he can. “I’m trpped... in an ATM vstbl... wth Jck Zimmrmnn!”

“Bits. I have literally no idea what you just said.”

He huffs loudly and brings a palm to his forehead. “Just put Shitty on the phone.” Bitty hears the sound of Lardo yelling for Shitty, the creaky floors of the Haus, and Shitty’s enthusiastic greeting.

“What’s up, man? Lards said you were almost mugged.” 

“No! What? Just.” Bitty takes a deep breath and prepares himself. “I’m trpped... in an ATM vstbl... wth Jck Zimmrmnn!”

“Holy shit!” Shitty screams into the phone before turning to scream at what Bitty assumes is the rest of the Haus, and likely their entire street. “Bitty’s trapped in an ATM vestibule with Jack fucking Zimmermann!”

Rolling his eyes, Bitty hears stomps and the loud yelling of the rest of the Haus. Shitty does eventually remember he’s still on the line, and addresses Bitty again. “Okay, Bitty. Listen.” And he starts mumbling something equally garbled. 

“Yeah, like that thought never entered my mind.” Bitty laughs. He hasn’t dared look at Jack Zimmermann the entire time he’s on the phone, though now it seems rude to talk on the phone when someone else is trapped in here with him. “Listen, Shits, I’m gonna hang up in case I run out of battery. I’m at the ATM across from that kitchen supply store in Providence, can you come get me if I get out of here after the last train leaves?”

“Sure thing, Bits! Make sure you get a selfie with the beautiful bastard. And an autograph; I’ll pay you back if he has to sign on some twenties.”

“I’m not going to-” Take advantage of a blackout and a trapped NHL superstar to pester him for autographs? Ask him to squat again so he can take a video? “- you know. Bye, Shits.”  
Bitty hangs up and turns around to see that Jack Zimmermann has given up on the door, and is now sitting on the floor doing stretches. 

“Your friends coming to rescue you?” Jack lifts his head and smirks a little, looking indecently attractive as he does so.

“Sorry. I thought you were going to mug me,” he admits sheepishly, sitting down with his back against the adjacent wall. “In my defence, you had your hands in your pockets, and I didn’t recognize you at first.”

“I don’t think you’d do well against a real mugger anyway, Pinkberry rewards card and all.” Bitty recognizes a chirp when he hears it, and is just glad Jack Zimmermann isn’t going to hold the mistaken identity thing against him.

“Excuse you, Mr.Zimmermann. I almost have enough points for a free waffle bowl.” 

“Jack.”

“Bitty.” He smiles, pulling his knees up and wrapping his arms around them.

“Bitty?” Jack raises an eyebrow.

“Well. Eric,” he clarifies. “Eric Bittle. But hardly anyone calls me Eric.”

“Bitty.” Jack rolls the sound around, and considers Bitty with a curious look. “That could be a hockey nickname.”

“It is.” Bitty laughs, forgetting that to most people, he hardly looks like a hockey player. “I play right wing for my college team. Samwell, it’s about an hour from here.”

“That’s my mom’s alma mater.” Jack’s eyes light when Bitty mentions he plays.

“I know,” Bitty says, and then quickly follows up so he doesn’t sound like an obsessed fan. “She came and gave a speech last year. I went with my teammates.” 

“She tries to give back to Samwell as much as she can. I think she wanted me to take a year between juniors and the draft to go to college.” Jack’s voice is fond as he talks about his mom. It sounds nothing like the well rehearsed hockey playing robot the press often accuses him of being. 

Taking out his phone again, Bitty pulls up his photos and scoots over so Jack can see the screen. He shows Jack a selfie they took with Alicia Zimmermann; courtesy of Shitty’s long arms and sheer determination, they’ve got almost the entire team in the frame. Alicia Zimmermann is laughing in the middle, holding up a Samwell Men’s Hockey jersey they’ve customized with her name on the back. Their entire team is wearing Samwell red and white, except for Ransom and Holster who are sporting retro Pittsburgh Penguins Bad Bob Zimmermann jerseys in black and gold. 

“She told me about that day.” Jack laughs as he looks at the picture, moving his fingers to zoom in on his mom. “She called and said she wanted to frame it next to Papa’s cup winning jerseys.” 

“If you think about it, he’s already got three; he should take down one and put hers in the middle,” Bitty declares, as if he regularly gives decorating advice to hockey legends. 

Jack tips his head back and laughs heartily, grin still on his face when he stops. “I’ll tell him you said that.”

“Or they can just put more nails in the wall,” Bitty continues, finding that Jack’s smile is quite contagious. “They’ll need more room anyway. For yours.”

Ducking his head, Jack’s smile fades a little. “We’re still a young team. Everyone is playing really well, and we’re trying our best to give it our all during every game.” His face closes off as he speaks, and Bitty suddenly feels his heart drop. 

“Jack,” Bitty says carefully. “We were at your last home game against Tampa. You guys were amazing. And the crowd loved you! Providence wasn’t even a hockey town ten years ago and now I see Mashkov jerseys at the farmer’s market.”

“Don’t tell him. If his ego gets any bigger, it won’t fit inside his head.” With a chuckle, Jack seems to relax again.

“Yes,” Bitty pans sarcastically. “Because I regularly talk to Alexei Mashkov.”

Jack opens his mouth to retort when there’s a loud hiss, followed by the lights flickering back on. Bitty blinks as his eyes adjust to the bright lights, and he slowly pulls himself off the floor of the ATM vestibule. 

“You can, if you want to. Talk to Tater, I mean. You should come to our next home game. I can get you a pair of tickets pretty close to the glass.” Jack lifts his cap and runs a hand through his hair before replacing it. “As long as you don’t wear Tater’s jersey.” He cracks a small smile at that.

Floored by the offer, Bitty agrees enthusiastically. “Yes! I’d love to. I-” Sometimes sleep in a t-shirt with your name on it. “- I’ll find a Zimmermann jersey.”

“Good. I’ll leave the tickets for you at the front office. Bittle, right?” 

“Yep. Eric Bittle. Samwell Men’s Hockey. Number 15. Nice to meet you.” He reaches out a hand cheekily.

“Nice to meet you too, Eric. I’m Jack Zimmermann, I play hockey too.”

**Author's Note:**

> This work, as is everything else I write, is beta'd by the lovely [ eeyore9990](http://eeyore9990.tumblr.com). This work is (hopefully) going to be part of a series of alternate universe meet cutes. 
> 
> I'm on [ tumblr as well ](http://dizzilytwirling.tumblr.com). Feel free to come talk to me about head canons, or to leave a prompt! 
> 
> Some thoughts on the rest of this verse:
> 
> -Bitty brings Lardo b/c she wins the Haus lottery for the extra ticket, he’s convinced she rigged the system  
> -They capture the entire thing on Bitty’s snapchat story, including Bitty’s mouthdrop when they find out they’re right behind the home bench???????? Close to the glass my ass  
> -Lardo brings a ‘Jack is my number 1’ poster  
> -She makes Bitty hold it  
> -A lot  
> -Especially when Jack is looking  
> -He waves at them when he’s on the ice warming up, Bitty knows he’s blushing but waves back anyway  
> -Also he defs shows up in a Zimmermann jersey are you kidding, as if he didn’t already have one  
> -They get to meet some of the players afterwards  
> -Bitty makes sure to tell Tater about all the Mashkov jerseys he sees around town  
> -Jack has a conniption when he sees the zimmermann jersey up close  
> -Happily ever after etc etc they fall in love and adopt a fluffy white dog named Sugar that sheds everywhere


End file.
